


Lupercalia's Desire

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bestiality, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Episode: s02e03 Chapter Fourteen: Lupercalia, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Non-Penetrative Sex, Rape, yeah this is kinda twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 15:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: It's not Nick who Amalia has feelings for.





	Lupercalia's Desire

**Author's Note:**

> **WHEW BOY CHECK OUT THOSE TAGS, THIS SHIT AIN'T FLUFFY**
> 
>  
> 
> So, I saw that Valentine's Day ep when the season first came out, and when Amalia touched Sabrina's face, I was like... oh, damn, so she's like, feeding off the bond, right? she's getting _Nick's_ feelings for Sabrina, and they're just kinda warped, I guess? That's so cool!
> 
> ...and then the episode did not turn out that way. So I wrote it that way myself. 
> 
> (actually, I wrote out notes, finished the season, was PISSED at the ending - fucking copout - and now that time has soothed that bitterness...returned to finish it. so here we are)

                “Nick?”

 

                There is no reply, not in the form of Nick calling back to her, nor another howl echoing in the woods around her. The forest is silent outside of her own breathing and the increasingly agitated beating of her heart – something she can hear with her own ears. Still, Sabrina _feels_ something else, hidden in the darkness, and knows that she is not alone.

 

                There is rustling from a large bush nearby that has Sabrina whirling around to look at it. First, there is a tinkling sound as something metal hits another piece. Then, a growl.

 

                Her heart stops in her chest as a heavy, clawed hand reaches through the branches, pulling them aside to reveal her pursuer.

 

                “Oh, no,” Sabrina breaths out, stock still as the creature instead steps closer, into better view.

 

                She gets another growl, as if in reply.

 

                “Amalia.”

 

                That is the only answer as to who it could be. The creature that came out of the trees is a beast – and a big one. She stands like a humanoid, but has grey fur all over and a wolf’s head. In place of fingers, she has long, black claws that look so sharp that they make Sabrina sway. Her body urges her to run, but her mind tells her not to. _Never run from a wolf_ , she knows, _they like to chase_.

 

                The biggest kicker isn’t the clothes that Amalia is wearing, nor the manacles she must have broken to free herself. It is instead one simple thing.

 

                “You’re _alive_.”

 

                The snarl Amalia lets out is quieter this time, but she keeps moving closer. It takes everything that Sabrina has to stand tall, keep her chin up, and not cow in the face of this shock. She’s done this before, facing danger and not running, but it never gets easier. It is hard, every time.

 

                This time is different. Amalia isn’t just a wolf, or a rabid familiar. She isn’t just another threat to Sabrina’s life. She is the embodiment of Nick’s _lie_.

 

                The only explanation for her being here is that he didn’t kill her; that the bloody heart he claimed to have cut from her chest was an accessory to his deception.

 

                _But why?_ Sabrina asks herself this, but the answer comes to her in the next moment, her brain working overdrive to keep up with the adrenaline pulsing through her veins.

 

                _He couldn’t do it himself. He still loves her_.

 

                In that second, a plan formulates in her mind. Maybe she can talk her way out of this, at least until Nick actually comes along. Or, if things turn sour before then…

 

                “Nicholas has told me about you,” Sabrina tells her, voice now raising above a whisper. Amalia continues to growl between her sentences. “How you were his family… And how… how luck he was to have you, and I – I’m – ”

 

                Amalia is so close now. She’s even bigger up close. With her mouth open (as if poised to _bite_ , to _snap_ ) and level with her face, Sabrina can see her teeth, shining with salvia. _My, what big teeth you have_ , comes to Sabrina’s mind and she trips over her words.

 

                She licks her lips and tries to go on. “I’m not your enemy.”

 

                That mouth shuts, but it is no less dangerous. Amalia huffs through her nostrils and Sabrina blinks the hot moisture out of her eyes. “I’m no threat to you, Amalia.”

 

                This seems to catch Amalia’s attention, at least in some way more than the rest, because she stops moving. She wavers in place, and Sabrina feels a surge of confidence in her plan. The tides are turning.

 

                Now, it is Sabrina who is stepping closer. “What you feel for Nick,” she catches her voice turning tender, more genuine, “I understand it.”

 

                Because she does. She feels it, too. Even if he couldn’t kill his familiar, and it’s led to this, Sabrina understands it, understands him, and Amalia. She thinks she… she thinks she could…

 

                Amalia reaches forward with one of her paws and gently runs it over Sabrina’s hair. She is careful not to catch any strands between her claws, and Sabrina briefly feels the warm pressure against her ear. She shivers.

 

                The growling sounds almost... soft, now.

 

                _Either it’s working_ , Sabrina thinks to herself, eyes on the snout in front of her, not daring to look up into those glowing eyes, _or she feels pity that she’s about to kill me_.

 

                The paw comes down, around to her cheek. Though the movements are slow, they don’t feel hesitant. Instead, they feel purposeful. As it reaches her jaw, one claw presses in and Sabrina is unable to stop the hitch in her breath at the stinging sensation it causes.

 

                Amalia takes back her paw finally, but if anything, she only leans closer. Sabrina tries to tilt her head up, but she knows that she isn’t fooling anyone with her eyes pointed straight ahead and the shaky wisps of air that she barely stops from turning into panicked panting.

 

                Amalia tilts her head and inhales somewhere along Sabrina’s cheek. She must be bleeding.

 

                Without warning, there is suddenly a tongue on her skin. The air in Sabrina’s lungs leaves her in hard motion, coming out as a confused sound that Amalia does not stop at. In fact, when Sabrina moves to take a step back, she’s caught between two sharp sets of claws. One holds her head, just as gentle as before, on the other side of where she’s licking. The one stops over Sabrina’s ribs, the sharpness just barely pricking into the thin gown she’s wearing.

 

                “Wh-What?” Sabrina starts to ask, but gets another growl when her mouth moves too much, straining on the new cut. A thin line of drool drips over the corner of her mouth. She stops trying to talk, but it doesn’t matter, because she doesn’t know what she was trying to say. Any of her planned words of before have left her. It’s hard to think with a large, frightening wolf licking at her wound, the second before it bites down and _feasts_.

 

                Except...

 

                There is a strange fragility to the way Amalia holds her. It is not like how Sabrina would have thought she would be touched right before she was slaughtered.

 

                It’s closer to that of a lover’s.

 

                Sabrina’s hair stand on edge at that. Something about this isn’t right. She doesn’t know just what it is, but it’s… off, somehow.

 

                She still has her back up plan.

 

                Inching her fingers down her leg, Sabrina tries to otherwise keep still. She doesn’t want to alarm Amalia before she has a chance to strike. This could be the moment between life and death –

 

                Amalia notices.

 

                She _notices_.

 

                In such a swift movement, the paw that was holding Sabrina’s head in place reaches down and rips the blade from where Sabrina was keeping it in her stocking. Sabrina gasps as she feels the fabric rip and watched as Amalia flings it from them with a sharp, reverberating growl. Without bothering to see where it lands (but judging from the sound, it was far off), Amalia turns back to Sabrina and uses her right paw to shove Sabrina into the dirt and foliage.

 

                Sabrina is dazed from the fall, her back smarting where it connected with the ground, but she finds herself very quickly startled back into reality – horribly confusing and shocking reality – when Amalia follows her down. She hovers over Sabrina, keeping her entirely pinned to the forest floor, and ducks in again to Sabrina’s cheek. However, she seems to be done with the shallow cut, and instead the licking has started to move down her jawbone. She twitches as it goes down her neck, and her wet skin itches where the air touches it.

 

                Amalia goes even further. She laps at Sabrina’s chest and seems to pause in her direction around Sabrina’s breasts.

 

                Sabrina jerks, trying to twist away on her shoulders, but Amalia doesn’t let her. She pushes her snout more firmly against Sabrina, holding her in place. Sabrina tries to plead, her gasps breaking the words, “N-No, plea–”

 

                Amalia ignores her.

 

                She can feel the wetness, the hot air, every single panting breath through the thin layer of her lingerie. It soaks the fabric and sticks to her skin. She can feel her nipples peak at both the attention and the cold air.

 

                _This is not how I wanted to lose my virginity_ , she thinks a little hysterically, thoughts rabid and all at once.

 

                Her arms are stopped by Amalia’s grip at each wrist. Still, despite Sabrina’s begging for her to stop, her attempts at getting up, and even the implication of what she would do with the blade – Amalia’s touch on her arms is kind. She does not scratch her with her claws, nor does she bruise her with her strength. But she does not let her go, either.

 

                “Please,” Sabrina tries again, when Amalia has moved on from her chest, deciding her soaked enough there. Embarrassingly enough, the attention has brought an ugly, hot flush to the skin there. There and… lower. “Please, stop…”

 

                She tries to say Amalia’s name, hoping that will be enough to catch her focus again, but Amalia laps at a new spot and suddenly, Sabrina loses her voice. All she can do is let out a startled shriek when she feels the warm, hot, agonizing heat of that tongue against her _there_.

 

                _Satan in Hell_.

 

                Oh, she hates that it feels _good_. She hates that that spot _pulses_ , and she can feel her blood rushing down to meet Amalia’s tongue. She hates that she feels like she’s on fire, and she almost… almost _craves_ it. Something in her aches for more and she _hates_ it.

 

                Tears prickle in her eyes, so she squeezes them shut. She can feel the remaining blood that has not ran south come to flourish in her face, burning her cheeks and scalding the skin red. She bites her lip in a weak attempt at distracting herself, but not so hard that she would draw blood. No, not when she remembers the way that Amalia had licked at the scratches on her face, like the blood welling in them were a sweetness that she would not live without.

 

                Her legs twitch on their own at the next lick. Amalia has seemed to grow curious now at Sabrina’s reactions, especially when they are in pleasure. Sabrina tries to squirm, to kick out, buck, anything, but she is not strong enough to push a wolf like Amalia off with just her torso and no arms. She can’t even use her legs, for they have turned to jello, the traitors, and have even fallen open, as if to welcome Amalia further.

 

                She hates that, too.

 

                It’s like she isn’t even in control of her own body anymore.

 

                She finds herself retreating into her head, and in her head, she finds herself thinking of Nick. She thinks of Nick, and how he had promised to do this with her, how it was supposed to be _special_. They would have laid down on the blanket. He would have made her laugh. They would tease each other. And that would shift to kissing. And touching. And he would be so warm. Warm and safe. He makes her feel so safe…

 

                In response to another one of Amalia’s licks, Sabrina moans. It’s more than just a noise, because she was thinking of him, she says Nick’s name.

 

                And.

 

                Amalia seems to really like that. In her next lick, she presses the fact of her long tongue harder against Sabrina, getting another sound out of her.

 

                Sabrina thinks she might actually cry at that, choking on a sob that could either have been another _no_ or Nick’s name again.

 

                She drifts in and out, her mind taking as much of this away as it can. In the moments where she isn’t thinking, she’s staring up into the sky, at what she can see of it through the tall trees and their many leaves. The sky is dark, more black than blue, no stars in sight. The only color and light is the heavy, full moon that stares back at her.

 

                Its beauty is a horror to her tonight.

 

                When she comes, it’s with a building pressure that she’d been trying to ignore. The moon she’d been staring at grows in size, swallowing all else and taking over her sight for a moment. She inhales sharply, her throat choking on some other indiscernible sound, and her hips roll against Amalia’s mouth. Amalia pulls back just enough to keep pressure on Sabrina as she orgasms, but far enough back that her teeth don’t come into contact with Sabrina’s skin.

 

                When Sabrina finally falls back against the dirt, bone-tired, Amalia pulls away. She even lets go of Sabrina’s wrists. Sabrina watches her from what feels like a distance. It doesn’t feel like it’s happening right in front of her.

 

                Amalia falls onto the ground beside her, curling tight against Sabrina’s body, as if to protect her from whatever else could be in this forest. The idea is laughable, but Sabrina barely has any energy to keep her eyes open, as unseeing and wet as they are. Every breath she takes in is gasping and slick with an edge of panic that has yet to come.

 

                If she hasn’t panicked in the middle of that, why would she panic now? She doesn’t know.

 

                Vaguely, she registers the sound of a branch cracking nearby, but she doesn’t even bother turning her head to see what caused it.

 

                “Sabrina?”


End file.
